


Prompt: "Is that my shirt?"

by napoleondarling



Category: Clark Kent - Fandom, DC Comics, Superman - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napoleondarling/pseuds/napoleondarling
Summary: I cant control myself





	

Clark sat at the wooden table in the living room next to the window, a slight breeze floating throughout the apartment as he typed. It was late, so he hadn’t bothered venturing to the bedroom yet; not wanting to wake you with his typing. 

Nights like these weren’t unusual; the Daily Planet kept him on his feet most of the day, leaving him to write his reports at night, which he despised, meaning you’d probably be fast asleep already.   
He stared at the cursor in front of him, his eyes straining and beginning to burn as he tried to focus his vision. A film seemed to cover them, and in an effort to alleviate the blurriness, he rubbed at them with the heels of his hand the motion making his glasses rise up to his forehead. 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” You soft voice sounded heavy with sleep, and he could tell by the way you wobbled slightly while standing in the entry way that you were close to falling asleep right then and there. It made his heart swell, knowing that you were dead tired, yet found the energy to get up and go looking for him all the same. 

Letting his hands fall into his lap, he peered up at you-having to blink a few times to regain his vision, the act of rubbing his eyes not seeming to help-and smiled. 

“Is that my shirt?” He sounded as tired as you did, and it made you frown as you made your way towards him. 

“Maybe I just missed my boyfriend…” You didn’t mean to sound so upset, but in your exhausted state you couldn’t filter the way your words came out. It was Clark’s turn to frown, and he did so while breaking eye-contact with you to instead stare at the bright screen of his laptop. 

“M’sorry…,” he began saving and closing out of the document he was typing before shutting the computer closed. Leaning back in his chair, he opened his arms to invite you in, humming when you had crawled into his lap. 

“I’ve been busy-I should be making time for you.” You could feel the rumble in his voice and you didn’t have to look at him to know he meant it. “How about we go to lunch tomorrow? Just you and me?”   
You hummed, trying not to fall asleep on the comfy chest of your boyfriend.

“Okay…” You barely stifled a yawn. “But sleep first.”


End file.
